Soutenir pour la Vengeance
by MudMunchkin
Summary: Several years ago, Draco Malfoy was sent to Azkaban from the cause of a little Miss Weasley. And now he's back for revenge to finish what he started. But time's running out. Emotions are churning. Pain runs high. The Dark Lord is waiting.
1. Haunted Memories

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Soutenir pour la Vengeance

Chapter One -- Haunted Memories

She could hear his screams from far off in the distance, deep somewhere in the dark allies of the London night. She frantically wandered the streets searching for him as thoughts raced through her mind with every step she took.

Where had he gone? He was just next to her a few moments ago…but all thoughts escaped her as she heard a horrible, piercing scream break the silence. She let out a whimper of panic and raced in the direction she thought she heard the cry come from. She didn't have to search long as she rounded a corner and came face to face with a sight she would never forget.

Harry laid sprawled out on the pavement, the side of his head bleeding profusely. His robes were torn into rags and he had numerous cuts and bruises up and down his body. She noticed that his leg was twisted in an odd angle, and let out a soft cry as her eyes wandered to who shadowed over him. Malfoy. She felt tears well up in her eyes, blinding her.

"Harry!" she whispered hoarsely. Malfoy seemed to hear her and his head snapped in her direction.

"Get out of here, Weasley! You don'_t know what you're dealing with!" he barked. He turned back to Harry, and with his wand, lifted him into the air and slammed him against the brick wall. _

Harry let out a deep moan of agony as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

"Ginny…" he muttered weakly and his head flopped to the side. That was all it took for Ginny to crumble inside and snatch out her wand.

"Drop him, Malfoy!" she bellowed and took a few paces nearer, positioning her wand at the back of his platinum head. "And your wand."

She saw his shoulders tense, and then relax. Draco released his wand and let his arm fall to his side, letting Harry crash to the ground in a heap. She wanted desperately to run to his aid, to help him, but the realization that she still had Malfoy in her reign stopped her. She really hoped he wasn't dead. Her gazed traveled from Harry's limp body, to the back of Malfoy's porcelain neck.

He slowly turned his head to face her, glaring malevolently. His eyes flashed in the moonlight, like a cat's. Ginny quickly wiped her tears away with her free hand to show no fear, but the scowl the had been embedded in Malfoy's face, slowly spread into a smirk.

"What are you going to do, Weasley?" he sneered, eyeing her wand with malice. "What are you going to do?"

Ginny gritted her teeth, considering this. The truth was, she really didn't know what she was going to do. She was strangling her rage, for fear of using an Unforgivable on him. And yet, she didn't know how to use one of those, either. She felt the fright rise in her spine and spread through her body. Malfoy was indeed more strong and powerful than her, so the only thing she could do was call for help.

"I'm waiting, Weasley."

"Shut it, Malfoy," she snapped, fumbling with one of her pockets, keeping her wand pointed at Malfoy's nose. She pulled out a silver mirror, with little gold roses sprinkled across the edges.

"Hermione," she whispered into it. "Hermione!"

Hermione's rosy face appeared in the glass, with a smile pasted on it. But that smile quickly turned into a frown at the look of anxiety on Ginny's face.

"Ginny, what's wrong? Are you in trouble?" she asked apprehensively.

"Hermione, I-" But Ginny was cut off as she felt her wand being seized from her grasp and the mirror in her other hand, being thrown onto the pavement. She collided with the brick wall, and felt Malfoy's weight on top of her.

Ginny heard Hermione's calls of panic from the mirror on the ground, but that sound was quickly halted and the sound of shattering glass replaced it as Malfoy slammed his foot on to it.

Ginny let out an audible sob as droplets of water splashed onto her face and thunder cracked in the distance. Perfect. Just what she needed. Rain. She struggled uselessly at his hold, but it was no use.

Malfoy slammed her again into the wall and she cried out in pain.

"I told you youdidn't know what you were getting yourself into!" he roared.

"But that doesn't matter now, Malfoy," she gasped, her words filled with hatred. "They're coming. Hermione is sure to have called the Ministry by now, and they're on their way."

He snarled and threw her to the ground, harshly. He turned to make a run for it, but his exit was blocked by two wizards in deep scarlet robes, directing their wands at him. He paused, then ran head long at them, but they seized him from behind his arms and tried to drag him away. He kicked and roared in anguish, trying to break away.

Suddenly, his gazed turned to Ginny, and their eyes locked. His eyes wide with fury, hers with grief and fear. Then he spoke the words that would haunt her for the next seven years.

"I'll be back for you, Weasley," he snarled, his wet hair plastered to his face. "You just wait. I'll be back."

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Ginny woke with a start. Her eyes scanned her white, canopied bedroom and she relaxed a bit. No one there, thank god. Her hand scrambled for a glass of water on her night stand and when she had it in her reach, grabbed it and drank copiously until it was all gone.

The memory of seven years ago haunted her dreams. Malfoy, that horrible scene, and those memorable words he had spoken

_"I'll be back for you, Weasley. You just wait. I'll be back."_

She shivered.

_But there's no need to worry,_ she thought to herself_. Malfoy was taken to Azkaban that night, remember? He's there and your safe here in your little, cozy flat where no harm can be done._

She snuggled into her sweat drenched sheets and closed her eyes, unaware of just how wrong she was.


	2. Break Through

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Soutenir pour la Vengeance

Chapter Two -- Break Through

The next morning, Ginny woke to the sound of her alarm clock ringing next to her ears. She groaned and rolled out of bed, slapping the noise maker on to the floor. She dragged herself into the bathroom, and came out a few minutes later, wearing a powder white robe.

Ginny made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of orange juice. She didn't care much for coffee, as it made her too jittery. Her mind wandered over to past night, and she slowly put her mug down.

Why was that scene ramming itself into her mind now? Why, after all those years?

Ginny remembered that day perfectly. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been announced murdered earlier that morning, when a house elf walked into their chambers to fluff their pillows. It seemed they had been killed by the Avada Kedavra curse the past night, and no one seemed to have noticed anybody in the house except for the usual family.

Ginny shuddered, thinking of the two Malfoys lying motionless in bed, never waking up.

The news, not knowing if she should call it bad or good, because nobody really liked the Malfoys, was all over the Daily Prophet and the WWN. It had been so unexpected, that all anyone could think about was who had done it. Suddenly, all fingers were pointing at the Malfoy's nineteen year old son, Draco. The Draco Malfoy who had put her brothers and herself through such hell in school. The Draco Malfoy who had tried so hard to get anyone Harry loved hurt in some way. The Draco Malfoy who's heart was so much like ice, that everyone suspected him of the misdemeanor.

He was almost charged with murder, but there was never any evidence found that connected him with the scene. So, he was released from Ministry hands. Nevertheless, the community failed to believe his alibi; they knew he was the one who killed his parents.

But later on the day, Malfoy was charged with attempted murder on Harry Potter and was thrown into Azkaban. Everyone suspected that Malfoy had gone on a killing rampage, first killing his parents, then trying to kill Harry. A chill traveled down Ginny's spine as the thought of what might have happened if she hadn't showed up at that exact moment.

The following week she had to testify against Malfoy. She remembered the hollowness of the large, stone chamber and Malfoy strapped to a cement chair. Sitting there, motionless.

Every time Cornelius Fudge would inquire something of him, he just sat there, expressionless, never saying a word. Those silver orbs he called eyes, staring straight at her, like a shard of glass, tearing at her soul. Never did they stop. Fudge soon got aggravated, and sent him to Azkaban, not announcing for how many years, as he was so furious.

Ginny sighed and sipped her juice lightly. Her hand extended to the folded Prophet, but just as she was about to open it, a large snowy owl swooped in through her window, a small parcel clamped in it's feet.

"Hedwig!" she exclaimed, gently rubbing the beautiful owl's head. "What have you got there?"

She took the package from the owl's ankle, and it took flight out the window. She watched it until it was just a speck in the yellow tinged sky.

She examined the parcel in her hands. It looked like any other package, but she noticed there was a note taped to it, addressing her. Ginny immediately recognized Harry's handwriting and she quickly tore off the brown paper. It was a small, emerald box, with red floral designs circling around the center. She opened it, and her heart leaped a mile.

Inside was a little silver pendant shape liked a rose, with tiny emeralds for leaves. A chain of silver wounded through the loop, so thin, it looked almost invisible. She gasped at how extravagant it looked, shining in the morning light.

"Oh, Harry.." she whispered in pure awe. "How beautiful…"

She tore her eyes away from the trinket, so that they landed on the piece of parchment attached to the back of the box. She unfolded it with trembling hands and read aloud to herself.

"Dear Ginny, I just thought you might like to have this fine necklace as I was sure it would look stunning on you. Something this special should belong with a special someone. All my love, Harry."

She frowned, and reread the note. Well, that wasn't exactly what she had expected. Why was the note so simple? Surely, such a gem cost a lot…..probably all of what he earned in one Quiddich game! Maybe…

Stop it! she mentally hissed at herself. _What were you expecting? A proposal?_

she mentally hissed at herself. 

She shook her head softly, and hooked the chain around her neck. She quickly gathered her juice and made her way to her wardrobe to get ready for work.

----------------------

Draco lay statically in his dingy bed, staring up at the gray ceiling that was caked with mold. Spiders traveled across it edges and bits of stone fell on his abdomen, prickling his stomach. Draco was use to this scene by now. He looked up at it every day. He placed his hands behind his head and glared at the spiders for no apparent reason. Seeing there was no affect, he turned on to his side, facing the stone bars that enclosed him in this prison.

Draco growled softly to himself, remembering for what seemed like the billionth time, who had put him here. If it weren't for her, he would have succeeded in his plan, but no. She just had to interfere. He shivered slightly at the coldness of his prison. Damn that woman! She just had to ruin everything!

He sat up and backed into the corner of his bed, staring at the cell door. Two dementors were approaching him; his back stiffened. After all those years, he still wasn't use to them. The way they hung over people , breathing coldly on the backs of their necks.

He closed his eyes momentarily. Unlike the majority of the people that were sent to Azkaban, he did not go mad…..maybe just a little. He had too much to do before he let his soul get sucked fro him. It wasn't like he had a soul, though, but something kept him alive and sane for several years.

He watched as the dementors slowly slid back the iron door. It stretched out its hand and made a gesture for Draco to come forward.

Draco hesitated, unsure of what to do, but kept his face straight as he sidled out of bed and started towards them. It let out a few rasps and after some time, Draco finally realized they were words.

"Time to go," it said hoarsely. Draco didn't know what to think. Go where? But then he considered the angered tone of it's 'voice', and knew it meant he was leaving.

Draco's eyes lit up with an imaginary fire, his trademark smirk beginning to appear on his face. He laughed mirthlessly inside himself as they led him down the winding corridor, past other peoples cells. They hooted and hollered at him with jealously, but not once did he turn to them. He just kept his face straight ahead, towards the exit.

He felt a huge wave of change wash over him, as he slowly pulled his old robes over himself and tossed them carelessly in a corner. He eyed himself in the muggy mirror, and ran a hand through his silver hair.

Draco's back, he though impishly to himself. It was time to get what he wanted. Revenge.

He glided out of the giant, wooden doors that had held him in that prison for so long. He walked swiftly, a slight sneer working upon his brow, with only one thing on his mind.

"I hope you're ready, Weasley."

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Ginny threw herself on her hominy white couch, snuggling into the soft cushions. It had been a long day for her at Madam Malkin's. A disgruntled witch had stormed into the little shop, complaining about uneven seams in her daughters dress robes, and that they hardly fit her. Ginny had calmly tried to explain to the woman that maybe her daughter had gained some weight in the month she had sent the order in. But the witch wouldn't have it, exclaiming loudly that what Ginny was trying to inquire was nonsense and trudged out the door, without demanding a refund.

Ginny had started working at the shop about four years ago. She hadn't been really interested in working at the Ministry of Magic, too much political work that she didn't care for.

She dragged herself into her room to change out of her work robes in to something more comfortable, but just as she was about to open her wardrobe, she noticed Hedwig on her window sill. She let out a cry of alarm and accidentally tripped over the trousers she was trying to put on. Ginny quickly pulled her pants on and made her way to the wind.

She scratched Hedwig's head, untying the piece of parchment from her leg. Hedwig quickly took flight out the window again. She unfolded the note and read aloud:

"Ginny,

How are you? Did you like the necklace? Anyway, to get to the point of this letter. I've just found out that Draco Malfoy has been released form Azkaban. Don't ask me why, I think it was on good behavior or something. Anyway, take caution. I'm not saying he might come for you, but who knows what's going on in his mind. Make sure you lock your doors properly, though I'm not sure that would help. You might want to try a Hideaway charm, just in case. I , myself, are taking these measures. I'll come see you as soon as I can, at least after this game against the Chudley Cannons.

All my love, Harry."

Ginny stared down at the note in complete horror. He's free? Draco Malfoy free? She shook her head violently. No, there must be a mistake. She reread the note, and dropped it in realization. Her mind started to twist and turn with thoughts she never knew she could produce. Horrid, vivid scenes of herself lying in a pool of blood somewhere and Harry with half his head cracked open.

She shivered and thought of what Harry had said. Lock doors! No, he was right. That wasn't good enough. The Hideaway charm should work, if only she new how to do it.

She was about to scrawl a note out to Harry, asking exactly how to produce a Hideaway charm, but her hand ceased as she felt a cloud of warmth hit the back of her neck. She slowly turned around to meet a couple of hoary eyes, glaring malevolently at her.

"Hello, Weasley."


	3. A Visitor

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Soutenir pour la Vengeance

Chapter Three A Visitor

"Malfoy?" Ginny squeaked, looking up at him. Her mind was shrieking with horror, but all she could muster were a few whimpers. This can't be happening. Those wonderful years of knowing he was locked up and that she was safe shattered into a million pieces.

She looked frightfully up at the man who was very unlike the Malfoy she remembered several years ago. His silver hair fell over his face and was a bit long, much reminding her of his father. His face was thin and you could see his high cheekbones easily. The Hogwarts Malfoy she knew would have never let his hair fall over his face, and she was sure he'd hardly ever allow himself to sink to such health. She had to admit, Azkaban looked as if it had sincerely changed him. But, she noticed, his eyes were the same. They still held that hollowness they long since before Azkaban had. Those eyes that were so bright, yet so cold, they could pull you in and trap you there for eternity.

She finally regained her consciousness, and spoke in a would-be-strong voice.

"What are you doing here?"

"I believe we both know why I'm here, Weasley," he drawled coldly. He took a step toward her, but she took one step back.

A small movement at her waist made his head snapped in the direction of her hand, which was inching towards her wand.

"Don't even think about it," he said, and before she knew it, he had grabbed her wand and pinned her against the white wall. Obviously, the lack of meat on him didn't lessen his strength, which she found was the stronger than she could remember. Their position resembled the scene those years ago, and she began to struggle. He ignored her useless slaps and tiny punches of protest, and kept their eyes locked.

"Why, Weasley?" he demanded harshly, their faces only inches apart. "Why did you have to interfere?"

"Malfoy, you're hurting me," she gasped. She squirmed and panted for breath, but Draco gave no reaction.

"You don't know what pain is!" he snarled, and threw her to the ground. She shrieked, quickly scrambled to feet, and ran hurriedly toward the door. No, this was not how she was going to die. No…

But he grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the corner. She closed her eyes and waited for him to throw a blow, but it never came. She opened her eyes, afraid of what she might see, and gave a start.

Draco was standing in front of her, and both arms against the wall on the sides of her. His face was set in a grim expression and he looked as if he were trying to hold back all his rage. She was somewhat thankful, because a few seconds ago, she thought she would be dead by the end of the night.

He stared at her considering his actions. Something just felt so wrong about this. Should he really take his anger out on her? He bickered with his mind over what he should do.

She doesn't really deserve this, one part of his mind was saying.

But, she interfered! If it weren't for her, Potter would be dead by now, the other half was saying in protest.

Yeah, but she didn't know what was going on! She didn't know the truth, the other half bellowed back.

Who cares? She's a Weasley, anyway. Just think of all those years in that moldy cell in Azkaban! Sitting there, day after day, with only walls for company! She put you there!

Ginny stared. His face looked so strained, as if he were talking to someone. She would have giggled, if it hadn't been for their situation.

In the end, both sides won. He wouldn't hurt the Weasley girl, but he wasn't going to be nice to her, either. He would use her. At that, wheels began turning in his head and a plan began to form.

Ginny gave a sigh of relief when she saw his arms slowly dropping from the wall. He smirked lazily and made his way out of the room. Ginny's draw dropped. What had just happened? Where was he going? Wasn't he going to punch the lights out of her? Her head hurt.

She slowly crept toward the door and peered in the direction he had went, and scowled at what she saw. There was Draco Malfoy, sitting comfortably on her couch, with his arms behind his head and legs crossed, his ankle on top of his knee. How dare he? He comes into her house uninvited, practically abuses her, and then has the nerve to even touch her furniture. Ginny Weasley was fuming.

She stomped into the living room and looked him hard in the eye. He matched her stare, unaffectedly. She spoke, but when she did, her voice quavered a bit. Though she was mad, she was still scared.

"Get out of my house, Malfoy!"

A sneer appeared on his blank face.

"I don't think I quite feel like it, thanks," he drawled softly. "Besides, you can't really call this a house, can you?"

She saw his eyes sweep over her white upholstered living room, and felt bits of scarlet creep up the sides of her face. Was he calling her flat a dump? She pouted a bit. She had worked really hard to get this place, with many hours spent at the shop trying to pay for it, and she had tried to fix it up the best that she could. But she wasn't going to let herself be talked to like that by Malfoy. _Oh, yeah,_ her mind said,_ bearing in mind a few minutes ago._

" I'm sure it's a lot bigger and better considering where you've been for the past several years," she retorted coolly.

His face darkened as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"No thanks to you," he said

Ginny rose to her full height with a hint of smugness in her voice.

"If I were you, I'd leave now, Malfoy. Harry should be here any minute and-" But she was caught short when Draco started to laugh softly.

He put his foot on the floor, but kept his hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

"Oooo, I'm shaking in my boots," he said with a slight smirk, but then it faded and the oh-so-familiar sneer appeared. "I'm counting on it."

Ginny gave a short gasp as Draco stood up, and started walking toward her. But that wasn't what she was concerned about at the moment. It was about Harry. He was going to wait here until Harry showed up, which he had promised to do in his letter, then he was going to.. to.. She couldn't think about it.

"Wh- why do you want to kill Harry so bad?" she asked, trying to make innocent conversation, but Draco wasn't to be fooled.

"That's," he said, turning away from her and walking back towards the couch, "none of your business, Weasley."

Ginny scoffed, not scared as much as before.

"Then why, may I ask, did you show up here?"

"No, you may not ask," Draco said coldly. "But if you must know, it was to pay you back for those horrid years spent in Azkaban! You have no idea what it's like, Weasley! Being in a place so cold, all the great memories you possessed are swept from your mind into a great pile of ashes!"

Ginny blanched as she felt the heat waves rise in her.

"You deserved what you got!" she spat, staring up at him. "You're a murderer! You killed your parents, and you were trying to kill Harry! You deserved every year spent in Azkaban and you deserve more!"

"I did not kill my parents!" Draco yelled and stood up with such force, he made Ginny stumble.

"You know nothing! Why would I kill my parents? They were the only ones who ever loved me; who ever understood me! Yes, I was trying to kill Potter, but you being the stupid girl you are, saved him!"

Ginny gasped and her bright, almond shaped eyes widened with surprise. He must be lying; who else could have killed his parents?

"Oh, but there's more, Weasley," he said, his eyes gleaming. "Oh, and you're gonna love this! Guess who did murder my parents?"

He smiled, but it did not match his eyes. Ginny was almost scared to find out what he'd say, but it finally came.

"Your very own Boy-Who-Lived," he said, so close to her face, his hair fell over her eyes.

Ginny gave a sharp intake of breath and glared at the man in front of her. How could he say that about Harry? Harry would never murder anyone in his life! And besides, what reason would Harry have for murdering Malfoy's parents?

"You're lying," Ginny said through clenched teeth. "You did it! You killed your own parents!"

Draco's eyes narrowed into even slits. "You're a stupid girl."

Ginny gave an unfazed chuckle. "I think I understand perfectly," she said, staring him in the eye. "You became one of Voldemort's followers. Obviously, Lucius and Narcissa did something that was totally inappropriate in your Lord's eyes, so he ordered that you kill them. After that, you somehow found out about me escorting Harry to Diagon Alley, and decided to finish him off so you can work side-by-side with the Dark Lord!"

She stopped talking when she heard Draco start to laugh in an unfriendly way.

"Only cowards join the Dark Lord," Draco said, backing away from her. "They have no hope for themselves, and join the him so they can have someone to look after them. Someone to protect them, someone to teach them things that many wizards and witches have barely the brain capacity to learn. My father was a coward, but I still found that I loved him. Even after I witnessed countless torturing that he had produced."

He paused for a second, and glanced over his shoulder as if expecting to see someone barge in through the door.

"I, unlike my father, felt that I didn't need to spend the rest of my life serving someone who thought that torturing people was a grand sport. My father was on the verge of disowning me, but my mother convinced him to let me stay in the manor. Days were spent when he didn't even look at me, but I grew use to it."

Ginny huffed in frustration. "A sad story, Malfoy, but I am fortunately unmoved. Now, can you please cut to why Harry would kill your parents?"

Draco scowled, but continued. "A short time after my seventh year at Hogwarts, I got word from Father saying that Harry Potter had joined Voldemort. I remember how astounded I was at the time, but it was true."

Ginny scoffed. "And why should I believe you? You're one of Voldemort's most famous supporters' son! Not to mention how much you terrorized and tried to get my brothers and Harry expelled."

Draco smirked. "Well, Weasley, I'm upset you've forgotten the occasional fistfight," he said sarcastically.

Ginny rolled her eyes and made her way into the kitchen in search of cold glass of water. Draco followed her muttering to himself.

Ginny sipped her glass and sat it down slowly. "Besides, why would Harry join You-Know-Who?"

Draco shrugged. "I really don't know. I guess maybe he just snapped one day. I suppose being hunted by one of the greatest dark wizards had a bit of a stress pull on him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't get smart, Malfoy."

Draco continued, ignoring her remark. "Well, I suppose that one day he obtained an interest in torturing and cruelty. You know, that's really what the Death Eaters were all about," he paused for second, then spoke again, but it was more to himself. "Or maybe he found out about his destiny."

Ginny's head snapped up at the word of 'destiny.' Oh, there had been so many times she had heard the word 'destiny' used in the same sentence as Harry. But what Draco had to say stroke an immediate interest within herself. What did Draco know about Harry's 'destiny' that she didn't?

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Draco snapped. "Back to the story. Father decided he would leave Voldemorts' pack; the Ministry was on his tail. As long as he had fought to clear his false name back in my sixth year had worked up a great deal of weight on his chest, and he figured he would leave Voldemort. But Voldemort didn't like that one bit. He condemned him to death, but Father fled. He moved manors with my mother and left me at the old one."

He paused to examine his nails, picking some dirt out of one. "Voldemort soon got word of my father's whereabouts and sent his best supporter to do the nasty deed."

Ginny stared in awe and horror at how simply he talked about death. It was like something that happened everyday to him, but she remained quiet.

"Potter had a very good disguise, you know. Letting everyone believe he was a great hero while saving innocent witches and wizards from Death Eaters, when it was himself who usually did the crime. I bet you never did notice the villain always got away."

Ginnys' eyes thinned to slits as she glared daggers at him. How could he say such a thing about Harry? Harry had risked his life trying to Madam Saltgrass from Macnair! Of course, he hadn't made it in time to save her from heart convulsion after having the Cruciatus Curse performed on her fifty or more times. But it was the thought that counted, right?

"Those were on just pure coincidences," Ginny protested.

Draco chuckled harshly then said, "There is no such thing as a coincidence."

"Right," she said sarcastically. "So how did Harry manage to get into the manor? Did he bonk a house elf on the head with his wand?"

"I wouldn't joke if I were you," Draco said narrowing his eyes at her. "Potter knew a lot more than what you think. Why, I had witnessed him do countless Unforgivable curses on witches and wizards alike. And, as much as he use to stand up for them, muggles."

Ginny shook her head and stood up looking braver than what she felt.

"Get out of here, Malfoy! I've had enough of your lies!" her words dripped with venom.

Draco pushed her back down without acknowledging her nobility. "Not until you've heard the whole story."

"I've heard enough!" she reached for her glass, and before he could stop her, splashed the ice cold water against his pale face.

Draco's hand went to hid face and wiped the cold liquid with the sleeve of his shirt.

"What was that for, Weasley!" he barked.

Ginny noticed that when both of his sleeves fell down from his arms that they were bright and almost transparent; she could see the blue and red veins gliding underneath his skin looking almost vampiric. But another thing that caught her attention was that they were both bare and clean from the Dark Mark.

She started to shake her head again and began to beat Malfoy on the chest. "No! It's not true!"

"Weasley!" he tried to grab her thin wrists, but she was too fast. "Weasley, you have to believe it! Potter used the Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself as me. He stole a lock of my hair from the place I get my haircut. He killed my parents that morning with the Avada Kedavra curse!"

He tried desperately to control her punches, but finally threw her against the wall in frustration.

She crumpled into a heap, and sobbed pitifully into her arms. He sauntered over and crouched down to her level.

"No, it can't be," she wept. "It's just not true."

"Of course it is, Weasley," he said dangerously soft; he had no empathy towards her. "I bet you never took into consideration why Potter always wears long-sleeved shirts. Or when he talks about death, there appears to be malevolent twinkle in his eyes." He had never witnessed Potter in person since the dark alleyway, but he described all the trait's the Death Eaters he had.

Ginny slowly picked her head up and stared at Draco with mixed frustration and realization.

"Let's just say I do believe you," she sniffed leisurely. "What would you do if Harry were to show up now?"

Draco smiled grimly. "I'd give him the same fate that he gave my parents."

"No!" Ginny cried and leapt to her feet. "At least let me give myself proof, to make sure you're not lying. I can't believe you unless I see for myself."

"What more do you need? Haven't I told you what you asked?" he scowled. "Or does little Weasley still have feelings for the Wonder Boy?"

Ginny blushed. "Of course! He's been my friend since my first year! Did you expect me to just hand him over you"

He smirked. "You know what I mean."

She glowered at him, protesting against his comment.

"Fine!" he growled in a frustrated manner. "I'll let you talk to Lover Boy, but you only have one day. One day to gather up information for yourself. But if you so much as utter a word that I showed up, I'll come out and kill him right then and there."

Ginny's eyes widened. What did he mean he'd come out?

Draco chortled, amused. "What? You didn't expect me to leave you hear to talk to Potter by yourself. You might give me away. No, I'll be here the whole time."

"And I hope you expect to be staying here, do you?" she snapped.

"Of course," he replied lazily. "And if the sleeping arrangements are a problem, well, I'm sure we can figure something out." He started to walk towards her. Draco examined her in a new light. She had certainly filled out since the last time he saw her. Her gangly figure had transformed into a curvaceous masterpiece. Not to mention her dainty figure that made her look so delicate.

She started to back away slowly towards her bedroom, her eyes expanding to show their full color.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she asked meekly.

"Oh, I'm sure you understand," he said softly, leaning in towards her face. Ginny inhaled his scent, and her heart trembled. He smelled of fresh mint; crisp and cool. His hand caressed her cheek, like butterflies fluttering against silk. Her trembling hand reached out and cupped the doorknob in her hand.

"So," he said nuzzling her neck with his nose; the feeling sent a tingle up her spin, "where will I be sleeping tonight, Ginny?"

"Outside," she whispered coldly, and slammed her bedroom door in his face.


End file.
